Romione Dreams
by claraowl
Summary: Ron and Hermione share a dream in third year... or is it a dream? Rated K for safety, please R&R!


Disclaimer: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! *cries* I don't own HP! *sobs hysterically, falling on floor*

3rd year

It was well past midnight in the common room, the time of night when you're not sure if you're dreaming or not. Hermione was still working, all alone, and it was getting to her. Eventually, she just put her head down in her arms and cried. She couldn't do this anymore…

Unbeknownst to her, Ron was standing on the steps, watching her. He went up to her, put his hand on her shoulder, and asked, "Do you know if this is a dream or not?" Not exactly the most sensitive thing to say, but hey, he's barely fourteen. So he gets a few breaks.

Hermione shook her head, then asked, hiccupping slightly, "W-what would you do if this was a dream, if you knew for sure?"

After considering for a moment, Ron answered, "I'd offer to give you a backrub, because you look really stressed. Dad says that the best way to help someone to get rid of stress is to give them a backrub. So- if we're going to assume this is a dream- do you want a backrub?"

Sniffing, she nodded. He awkwardly yet gently helped her up, and led her over to the couch. Instructing her to lie down on her stomach, he proceeded to sit on the edge, next to her. He smoothed her hair off of her back, noticing as he did so how soft it was. He gently felt the upper part of her back, between her shoulder blades, and realized how tight it was. _Poor Hermione,_ he thought, _she's been working too hard._ He began to move his fingers quietly, in a circular motion, along her left shoulder blade. As he did so, he felt something underneath her shirt and felt his ears go red. He decided not to mention it and just keep rubbing. After several more minutes, that part of Hermione's back had relaxed. He paused.

"How does that feel?" he asked cautiously.

"It feels… much better, Ron." came Hermione's slightly muffled reply, "Thank you."

"I'm going to continue, okay? Considering that this is a dream and all."

"Fine by me," she answered, "I could use more nice dreams… and…mmmm…" Her words turned into something that Ron could only call a moan, for he had resumed rubbing. As he did, he pondered the fact that this seemed to be a dream.

For one thing, Hermione had never let him see her in such a relaxed and venerable state before. He wondered at this. Why now, when they had been fighting so much? Was it simply because they both believed this to be a dream?

For another thing, whose dream was this? It seemed so real to him, but he did not remember walking down into the common room. But why would he be dreaming about this, of all things? Maybe it was Hermione's dream. But then, how would he be able to know what he was doing? Anyway, why would he turn up in Hermione's dreams? It just didn't make sense.

After a good hour, Ron had finished Hermione's back and wondered if he should move onto her neck. He could tell, just by looking, that it was all tight. He sat there, hands hovering on her shoulders, pondering what he ought to do.

"Ron?" Hermione rolled over and looked at him, her face wearing a mix of emotions.

"Yeah?" the expression on her face had left him near tongue-tied.

"I-I really am sorry… about Scabbers… and being s-such a terrible friend this year…" She sat up, bringing her face right next to his.

He was so shocked by this that his tongue untied slightly, allowing him to say, "No- Hermione, you really shouldn't be sorry… I've really… I mean… I'm sorry…er…I should've been nicer to you this year… Blimey, why is it so hard to talk?"

Hermione laughed lightly, breathily, in a way that made Ron feel as if he'd inhaled a Hagrid-mug-full of butterbeer up his nose. "Maybe you're not used to talking in a dream."

"So this is a dream? Are you absolutely sure about that?" Smiling slightly, he moved his fingers to her neck and gently eased out the tenseness.

"Well," she said when he finished, "judging from what has occurred in the past-" she glanced at the clock "-hour and a half, I would say yes, because this situation is highly unlikely."

He opened his mouth to protest, then shut it, realizing that she was, as ever, correct.

"Besides," she whispered, looking at him shyly through her lashes, "if we're assuming that this is a dream, then I get to make a request I couldn't otherwise."

He stared at her blankly. "What?"

"I want another taste of what happened last Halloween."

His eyes widened. Last Halloween had been when they had kissed, actually kissed. Granted, it had been an accident- she'd slipped on a wet rock, he'd caught her, and their lips had met. But that did not erase the fact that they hadn't let go of each other in that (mercifully empty) spot for at least two minutes. (This was one of the reasons that both of them forever loved the village, though neither would ever admit it.)

His ears went red as he murmured, "Yes, this is a dream…" He pulled her onto his lap and they kissed.

Up on the stairs, Parvati was looking down at them, agape.

The next morning, both of them woke up in their own beds from what they thought was just a wonderful dream.

Many years later, after the war, Ron and Hermione were taking a walk through the village, talking about dreams.

"…and then I woke up. I remember being so disappointed that it was a dream." Hermione grinned up at her husband.

Ron, dumbfounded, said, "I don't think it was."

Confused, Hermione asked, "What do you mean?"

"I had a dream about the same thing around the same time. I-I think that it actually happened."

They stared at each other for a moment, then started to laugh. It just fit; only they would take something as real as that and think it a dream.

"You know what this means, don't you, Ron?" asked Hermione once the laughter had subsided.

"What?"

"You have to give me backrubs from now on!"

"Then you have to give me some, too."

She grinned, "It's a deal."

And they sealed it with a kiss.

*Fin*

I hope you liked it! Now, go hit that li'l' ol' review button. C'mon, you know you want to.


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